"I'm not sure I believe that anymore. I've been gone so long."
"Your family just spent three hours making sure I felt welcome. Making sure I knew I was part of this." Grant tipped her chin up, meeting her eyes. "If they can do that for me after a few weeks, imagine what they'd do for you if you came home for good."
Riley's breath caught. "Grant?—"
"I'm not asking you to decide anything tonight. I'm just—" He stopped, trying to find the right words. "I want you to know you have a place here. With your family. With—" He almost saidwithmebut swallowed it back. Too much, too soon. "You belong here, Riley."
"I want to believe that."
"Then believe it."
Riley pulled him down for a kiss that was soft and sweet and tinged with something that tasted like longing. Grant held her close, breathing in the scent of her shampoo mixed with pine and cinnamon and home.
When they pulled apart, Riley's eyes were shiny. "I should let you go. Your dad's waiting."
"He can wait another minute."
"It's freezing out there."
"He's got the heat running." But Grant stepped back anyway, letting his hands slide from her waist reluctantly. "What time should I expect you tomorrow?"
"Eleven? That gives me time for the Monroe family present chaos and the traditional Christmas morning waffles."
"Eleven works. We'll have brunch ready."
"What's on the menu?"
"That's a surprise."
"Grant."
"You'll have to wait and see." He kissed her one more time, quick and firm, trying to pour everything he couldn't say into it. "Merry Christmas, Riley."
"Merry Christmas, Grant."
He forced himself to turn away, to walk to the truck where his dad was waiting with the heat blasting and country Christmas music playing softly on the radio.
As they pulled out of the driveway, Grant looked back to see Riley still standing on the porch, wrapped in her arms against the cold, watching them go with something soft and almost sad in her expression.
"She's good for you," Thomas said quietly.
Grant smiled. "Yeah. She is."
"You're planning to keep her this time?"
"If she'll have me."
Thomas was quiet for a moment, then added, "Your mother would have loved seeing you together now."
Grant's throat went tight. "Yeah. She would have."
They drove home through streets lined with Christmas lights, and Grant let himself think about tomorrow. Riley at his table. Riley in his kitchen. Riley in his house, in his life, in his future.
He was in love with her.
Had probably never stopped being in love with her.
And tomorrow, when they were finally alone, maybe he'd find a way to tell her.
